This week has exploded fantastically in my face. I know this review is a sad two days late, but what is a girl to do? Nap time only lasts so long, and showering these days is a luxury. My poor husband took pity on me this morning and offered me a chance to jump in while he watched Scotty. It was a glorious thing, let me tell you, to be showered before noon. I think I was actually awake and coherent for most of this morning.

Anyways, enough about showering. Because time is of the essence these days, let me sum up this week's episode of the Bachlorette in four succinct sentences.

Ashley and Ben canoodled on a yacht; he's not ready to say "I love you" but he feels it.

Ryan appeared out of nowhere and got another heaping spoonful of rejection.

Constantine didn't even make it to the dessert course to let Ashley know he's not really digging her, and subsequently made an abrupt exit.

JP was stoked to find out two guys had gone home, but didn't realize Ryan came back; that glint of competition in his eyes makes me think that even if she does pick him, it's more about the chase for JP than the prize.

And...scene.

Whew! I just might do this every week. Easiest review, ever.

So a bigger dilemma for me is Sunday night. 'The Men Tell All' airs on Sunday with the big finale on Monday night. I don't know what you're watching, but Sunday has become the greatest night of television in our house this summer. We have, of course, our weekly helping of "True Blood," followed by "Curb Your Enthusiasm" and the last season of "Entourage." This is coupled with the fact that "Breaking Bad" just started on AMC, causing Brian and I to stay up well past 10pm this week to see if the Chicken Man was going to kill anymore people. RIP Victor.

We didn't even get to Curb or Entourage until last night.

So what am I going to do this Sunday? I'm not sure our DVR has the capacity for this. Hmm....

And that being said, anyone who's a Curb fan out there...how great was the Palenstinian Chicken episode? OMG. Brian and I were crying, we were laughing so hard. I can only hope the term "social assassin" becomes part of our everyday vernacular.

Perhaps Alan Ball has been reading the fan blogs about True Blood, or maybe he just has a knack for giving viewers what they want. All I know is that this episode gave me three things I had been waiting for: the end of Jason being terrorized in Hot Shots, the death of Tommy's ridiculously white-trash family (RIP Jolene and Momma), and finally, finally, finally...the big smooch between Eric and Sookie.

I literally applauded from my couch. Loudly. Almost woke up the baby.

But this kiss signals the beginning of the Eric-Sookie romance, and I just can't wait. Well, hopefully it's a sign of the beginning - unless of course Bill ruins it all by going all psycho-ex-boyfriend on Eric. Boo. I've always been a Bill fan, but his behavior of late has been nothing short of disappointing. He broke Sookie's heart, and now he's going to tell her who she can and can't date? Whatever, dude.

I'm getting a little ahead of myself. Let's start at the beginning.

Tommy killed his dad, Jolene, out of self-defense. He was a little too hopped up on adrenaline and whacked his Momma, too, causing her to perish as well. Freaking out, he shows up at - who else's? - Sam's place. Sam, against his better judgement, helps his brother and transports the bodies to the local swamp. They were stopped momentarily by a V-loving Andy Bellefleur who insisted Sam open the back doors to the van. Tommy used his head for once, and shape-shifted into an alligator, scaring the beejesus out of Andy. Way to go, Tommy! I honestly wouldn't have been able to handle it if the two of them had been hauled off to jail. We need to end this storyline quickly, and Alan Ball delivered just that - a rather poetic end to the lives of Jolene and Momma: death by marshmallows. Not to mention, note to self: don't swim with marshmallows when taking a dip in your favorite Southern swamp hole. It'll stir up the 'gators.

Anywho, Tara, Layfayette, and Jesus were all still mad at Marnie for the spell she cast that rotted Pam's face. Layfayette and Jesus decided to go south to Mexico to visit Jesus' grandfather, a brou-haha (I hope I'm spelling that correctly). Jesus told Layfayette about his rather memorable 9th birthday, the day that his grandfather forced him to kill a goat and then lick the blood off the knife. He said he felt something when he drank the blood, giving him reason to believe he may have special powers. My question is, what do you do on the 10th birthday? How do you top a goat murder?

Tara was all freaked out when she talked to her girlfriend back in New Orleans, as the girlfriend started receiving mail with Tara's real name on it. Tara sought out Sookie for advice, only to find one very large, Nordic vampire in Sookie's house. She threw down the beer and ice cream and reached for a poker, which Eric tossed out of her hand like it was a Q-tip. Eric looked genuinely concerned for Sookie's well-being, and those two continue to grow closer. Tara hightailed it out of the house, leaving Eric and Sookie alone.

Now, prior to this, Eric was started to have some real issues with his identity. One bad dream about his maker Godric sent him to Sookie's bedroom like a little kid, scared and unsure. Sookie played the mom part well, stroking his hair and telling him he's a good vampire, but Eric wasn't sold. After Tara extolled all of the bad things Eric has done, Eric's crisis hit its peak, and he left Sookie's house with some serious insecurities. Poor guy. We've all done bad stuff, but Eric was really beating himself up over this. Thankfully, Sookie followed him out of the house, called for him, and he returned to her open arms. Their hug turned into a kiss with the stairs helping the height difference significantly, all while...

Pam spilled the beans to Bill. Accidentally, of course, but loose lips (literally! ha!) sink ships. Despite the fact that Bill captured Marnie and glamored her, the vamps were no closer to finding out a reversal spell for both Eric and Pam. As the sheriffs of Louisiana assembled in Bill's living room (love those couches!), one sheriff explained why this witch thing is such a big deal: back in 1610, a witch by the name of Antonia cast a necromancy spell that caused all of the vampires in a 20-mile radius to come into the light - and meet their true death. This just so happens to be the same witch that Marnie has been channeling. So yeah, this is kind of a big deal. And as Pam fumed about killing/torturing Marnie, she let it slip that Marnie also erased Eric's memory. When Bill confronted her, she told him Eric is at Sookie's, and Bill's eyes flashed. He headed off to Sookie's place and next week, we find out what happens between the two.

An Alcide update ("Al-see," as the writers were kind enough to let us know how to say his name finally): he's in Shreveport, playing house with Debbie Pelt and wearing as many sleeveless shirts that he can find. (Brian groused on the couch, "Is it in his contract to either be shirtless or sleeveless in this entire season?" I told him to pipe down and continue eating his apple cores and raw meat.) The Shreveport pack master came knocking at his door - literally - but Alcide stood firm and explained he did not want to join a pack, as he enjoys "free agency." As the coming attractions showed, it looks like they go after Debbie, which pulls Alcide into the pack. See? This is why you dump the troublesome girlfriend now, so she doesn't cause you more issues later.

Also, please continue wearing your sleeveless shirts.

Your thoughts? Was the kiss everything you hoped it would be? When do you think Bill interrupts? I forgot to mention Hoyt/Jessica/Jason and Arlene and Terry, but there's not a lot to cover with them. I'll stick to the shirtless hunks, thanks.

Based on what Al Roker is telling me, it's pretty hot in the Midwest and on the East Coast right now.

As you may imagine, those of us who live in a desert are familiar with high temperatures. We willingly sacrifice four months out of the year, putting up with blistering heat upwards of 120 degrees, in order to receive mild winters and over 300 days of sunshine.

My verdict? It's totally worth it.

Since us Las Vegans are seasoned pros at dealing with hot temps, the Bear wanted to offer some advice. This is his second summer, after all, as a desert Bear. And he has some good tips for those of you in the 'Dome of Heat.'

First, have a playdate. Invite your friends, turn on the sprinkler, and fill the kiddie pool. Nothing is more refreshing than cool water.

Sprinkler Bear

As Jett is modeling here, clothing is optional.

Nudie baby and the Bear

(Editor's note: these photos were taken prior to the plague attacking our house.)

This is also an excellent way to dupe the Water Authority and get extra water for your lawn. Here in Vegas, we'll do anything for more water.

Editor's note: Brian is back to work, Scotty has been puke-free for 3.5 days now, and I am showing no signs of illness. Our entire house has been wiped down to within an inch of its life and the smell of vomit is slowly starting to dissipate. I'm not going to call it yet, but we certainly seem to be headed for calmer waters.

Want to know what the hottest ticket in Las Vegas is right now?

No, it's not Marquee at the Cosmo. Or XS at the Wynn. It's not Pure or Tao or any other mono-syllabic night club with a celebrity DJ or outdoor pool area.

Nope, it's not even a night club. It's not a show or a restaurant or some silly rave in the desert with a weird sounding name like "the Electric Daisy Carnival."

The hottest ticket in town, folks, is......10:30 Storytime at the Windmill Library.

I'm not joking. And today, Scotty and I were denied at the door.

Ouch. It still stings a bit.

This is seriously the hot spot for the 3 and under (jet) set. The doors to the library open promptly at 10am, and Storytime begins at 10:30. There is usually a snaking line of toddlers and their parents wrapped around the building by 9:55am. I've seen it; the first time we went, under serious advice to get there early, I was shocked to see the throngs of people lined up. Was Elmo making a special appearance? Was Thomas the Train DJ-ing?

Nope, it was just your average Thursday morning Storytime. And for whatever reason, it was a big deal.

We've attended - and gotten in - the last few weeks. But today we were running late. I didn't pack up the Bear until ten, and we parked in the lot at 10:16am.

Then the "slow burn" commenced. (i.e. Scotty walking to the door by himself.)

Why is it that everyone else's toddler runs away from them, yet mine takes the long way, every time? The kid picks up rocks, touches the flowers, pats the sidewalk. He kicks at stuff, points to things, and expects me to offer a running commentary on everything we see. It's exhausting and frustrating, particularly when we are running late. And then when he does take a step, it's a quarter of mine. I was trying hard not to push him, but at one point, I think I yelled, "Pick it up already!"

Scotty just looked at me and blinked. Slowly.

By the time we reached the librarian's desk after the very long walk through the atrium, I knew it was too late. The clock was approaching 10:22. The librarian, whom we shall call Ms. L, looks nice but there is a steel glint of cold unforgiveness in her eyes. As I approached the desk and feigned stupidity, holding my hand out to collect our two precious admission tickets, she didn't even smile.

"Sorry. We're all out of tickets."

I smiled again, this time trying to disarm her. I mean, she's a librarian. This whole drunk-with-power thing was really getting old. She runs Storytime like we're prepping the kids for the bar exam; she has even gone so far to ask parents keep their children sitting for the duration of the hour.

Did I mention the entire program is geared for kids 18 to 36 months? Sitting? Really?

I don't think Ms. L has children of her own.

Anyways, I smiled again, shrugged, and asked, "Really? We can't squeeze in? There's only..." quick estimate "one point five of us. We won't take up much space."

Again, no smile. She actually stood up and started to walk away from me. "It's fire code. We can only have so many people in the room at once." She was now engaging another librarian in a conversation, clearly letting me know she was not budging.

Hmph. I'm not going to argue with fire code.

I managed to get in a passive aggressive "Wow, you guys are hard core" before I huffed away. And while Scotty sat and played with the other kids, I tried not to pout. When the doors opened and all the ticketed children were ushered in, I shot Ms. L one last nasty look before we headed to the back.

Scotty and I ended having a great time, despite the fact our entrance was denied. I don't know what games were played or what stories were read. I don't really care. I do know, however, that several board books were not put back on the shelf, which may or may not have been intentional.

"OMG! It's okay, sweetie! In the bucket, in the bucket...okay, that's fine, I'll clean it up. No sweetie, not on the carpet - in the bucket! Ah yuck, okay, it's fine, Mommy's washable. Oh pumpkin, you're going to be okay. I know, throwing up is awful. You're fine, Momma loves you."

My reaction when Brian emerged from our bathroom this morning, sporting a glassy, green sheen on his face:

"Seriously? Just go to work. Get out of here. You're going to get the baby sick again. No, don't touch me! Get away!"

My response the night after we were at the ER with Scotty:

::cranking up monitor so it's as loud as possible::

::lots of crinkly static:: then...Cough! I bolt up in bed. OMG Scotty just threw up! Must run and check on him. Oh please oh please let him be okay.

The Bear is totally fine. ::more crinkly static, which goes on all night::

My response to Brian when he got up last night at 2am, saying he felt like he was going to throw up:

"You feel like what? Throwing up? Oh gross. Sleep downstairs, okay? I don't want to be up all night."

He slumped out of the bedroom, shoulders sagging, totally defeated. Poor guy.

I know, I know. It's not fair. But Scotty is so darn cute, even when he's puking his little guts out. Brian...Brian just makes me angry when he gets sick. He made it to work this morning, won his hearing, and promptly drove back home to go to bed. He is now sleeping upstairs as I type this. And let me remind everyone, if I was the one who was sick (which is a definite possibility, with the way this week is shaping up), I would still be caring for the Bear while Brian was at the office. It doesn't matter if my head is hanging in a toilet; moms don't get sick days.

We had your usual mix of family fun, though it was shockingly short of the typical "one family is really weird" make-up. I mean, where were the birds to be buried in the backyard? You really expect me to believe no one does taxidermy in their basement? C'mon people, this is national television. Let's fly our family freak flags proudly.

Strange happenings aside, we did have our normal range of the good (all of Constantine!), the bad (over-bearing, surly sisters) and the ugly (Ames' entire contrived carriage ride, complete with open containers of wine/champagne that were spilling all over. He wanted us to believe his picnic was totally spontaneous? Did they just stumble upon a horse-drawn carriage in the fields of PA? And why was the carriage moving at such a rapid clip? The first thing that popped in my mind was Ichabod Crane and the Headless Horseman, not romance. The whole thing was weird and kind of yucky.)

Anyways, let's break it down by family.

Constantine and his big, fat, Greek family:

I love them! Who couldn't? I mean, aside from having the chance to know what Constantine is going to look like in 30 years (read: Dimitri), Ashley was able to dance, catch money, and hug lots and lots of relatives. She made a pizza, a very well-organized salad (that's my Smart Girl), and even took an order by herself. Who needs dental school? She has Gorgio's Italian Restaurant! (yes, it's Greek and Italian and American, as Constantine was quick to explain.) The night was capped off when Constantine's entire extended family descended upon the house, and I can only imagine what they brought to eat. I bet it smelled great. Ashley would put on a quick 15 pounds if she picks Constantine, but it would be worth it. I'm kind of in love with the whole crazy clan.

Ames and his strange, bucolic existence:

I was finally able to put my finger on what bugs me about Ames: he looks like an over-sized Sour Patch Kid. The hair, the teeth, the giant forehead. He's just a weird dude. And I won't be surprised if he later admits he paid actors to be his family for this visit, along with renting the house and the property. It was all just too much. Also, I think he might bat for the other team. Now that would be a Bachelor first.

Serena the sister took Ashley to task, and instead of asking her about herself, she promoted her brother. And then Serena had the audacity to tell Ames that while he has "the spark," Ashley, sadly, did not. So...huh? You don't think this girl is good enough for your brother, yet you are telling your brother to amp up the romance so he wins? Just weird. The whole family rubbed me the wrong way, from his unblinking mother to the scary dude that was his brother. Even the kids looked a little 'Children of the Corn: The Connecticut Version' to me. Weird vibe. Run, Ashley, run.

And then of course, was the whole "spontaneous" picnic under the magnolia tree. Personally, I hate picnics. Great idea in theory, terrible in practice. I don't want to sit on the ground, carry my own food, or have to carry dirty dishes back with me. But Ames was undeterred and even went on to school Dr. Ashley about Italian concepts of love. Ick, ick. You can tell Ashley is intrigued by Ames, but probably only because of his veneers and lack of affect.

Ben and his very, very sad family:

This is a tough one for me to comment on. Ben's father passed away several years ago, and it's clear the family is still hurting. There's not a lot of family left, either - just him, his mom, and his sister Julia. On the outside, they are gorgeous, from the baby grand in the entry way with white and green hydrangeas on it to the camel-colored pashmina worn by his mom. But they are a sad family. Ben apologized to him mom for "not being a better son" after his dad passed away, while Julia fretted that Ben closed himself off after the death. I don't know. I like Ben, but I wonder if he's ready for something like marriage. And I can't imagine Ashley would want to visit that house of pain anytime soon.

At least the family has lots of wine to drink. What an idyllic life Ben must lead, having to taste the barreled wine every few weeks. Um, yah. I could handle that.

JP: A Blast from the Past

I love JP. I do. I find him adorable and sincere and he seems to say all the right things. Yeah, he might get a little angry at times, especially when Ashley is dating other men, but he's just so darn sweet. I hope they are very happy together.

He took her on what can only be called the greatest home-town date, ever. Roller-skating to REO Speedwagon, drinking wine out of paper cups, and an old 80s-inspired pic of JP? Best date ever! He seems incredibly confident in the relationship, and I think if Ashley does pick him, it will be because he believes in their relationship so much. And he's so darn cute.

My only concern is this past relationship literally everyone keeps referring to. You know, the girl who hurt him so much. Who is his former girlfriend - Debbie Pelt? I mean, seriously. What did she do to him? And will Chris Harrison get a chance to interview her? I'm dying to find out more.

In the end, we all know it was the Sour Patch Kid that was sent home. He displayed absolutely no emotion, even as he told Ashley his normal composure was weakening. Oh wait, he did briefly close his eyes in the limo and rub his temples. That must be Ames' version of the ugly cry. Who knows.

Either way, it's a Constantine v. Ben v. JP finale (in Fiji!). Who comes to visit Ashley? What's up with her sister??? (by the way, I was laughing hysterically during the coming attractions...finally, we have a good family fight during the last episode! The tattoo'd sister gives Ashley a piece of her mind. Bring it, ladies!) Does JP really propose, or are we all just being led to believe that? And finally, how good does "The Bachelor Pad" look??? Jake + Vienna = train wreck television. Sign me up!

I do know this: this episode yielded the greatest 90 seconds of television I've ever seen. I am, of course, talking about the scene with Sookie, Eric, and Alcide by the pond. But we'll get to that later.

First, let's talk about the dangers of draining a fairy. It results in total inebriation, which can be very hazardous to your everyday vampire. Eric was no exception. First he face-planted, then he pinched Sookie's behind, and then he took off running joyously, if not a bit unevenly, through the woods. I'm surprised he didn't attempt to drunk dial former girlfriends or hit up the nearest Bon Temps Denny's for a Grand Slam breakfast. Oh right, vamps don't eat food.

Anyways, Sookie kind of freaked out when Eric ditched her. She called all six-foot-plus of strapping werewolf goodness (aka Alcide) to help her on "official vampire business." He was none to shy about stripping down in front of her (he had to shift, okay? Seriously people, get your minds out of the gutter) and I'll admit, when he took his shirt off, I gasped. This show is starting to reduce me to a gaping 13-year old girl (if I'm not there already.) I mean, seriously? What has Alcide been eating for the past six weeks - apple cores and raw meat? The man's abs are nothing short of amazing. Is there a True Blood workout video available? Because whatever these actors are doing is working. And working well.

Back to the story. Alcide helps Sookie track Eric down to a local pond where he is frolicking naked in the water. Wolf Alcide shifts back to Human Alcide and then all of a sudden, it's Sookie standing with two very naked, very well-built guys. I can only imagine what it was like for Anna Pacquin to film that scene, especially since she's married to Bill Moyer (Vampire Bill) in real life. Talk about awkward. But still, it was the best 90 seconds of TV I've seen in a long time.

Meanwhile, baby Mikey has taken to writing nasty things on his parents' walls. Jason finally escaped the in-bred disgustingness of Hot Shot, only to kill Felton on his way out of town. Crystal stopped him and assured him he would be back, as it is the only place that would accept him now. Here's hoping the blood he drank from Jessica (who found him on the side of the road while driving with Hoyt) helps to combat whatever panther-ness might be going on in his body.

Jesus, Tara, and Layfayette brought Marnie to Pam to reverse the spell on Eric, but it all back-fired on Pam. Marnie had had a vision (dream? nightmare?) earlier of the Witch Within's back story - some type of Inquisition-like burning of a woman, as two men stood by graphically talking about how to kill a witch. (mental note for later in the season, folks). Marnie channeled that inner fire (literally) and cast a spell on Pam that caused her face to rot. We all know Pam takes great pains with her appearance, so this is going to seriously piss her off when she gets to a mirror. Marnie was still completely unaware of her Witch Within and promptly collapsed after the spell, leaving Tara & Co confused but relieved. And Layfayette is still nervous. He might have some residual PTSD from his stint in Eric's dungeon.

I'm not even going to comment on Tommy at this point. I'm bored with that whole storyline. And Sam is hooking up with the pretty shifter, who we learned not only has a kid, but the kid's father is a rather possessive werewolf. Yikes. Watch your back, Sam.

Bill found out that Portia is his great-great-great-great grand daughter, making things kind of icky for both of them. (Was that Mona from "Who's the Boss?"? She looks great.) Sookie and Eric almost shared a snog, but were interrupted by a knock at the door. Bill is still trying to find Eric, but stopped short of pushing his way into Sookie's house after she guilted him into believing her. Gotta hand it to her, those feminine wiles do come in handy at times.

So what did you think? Sookie really seems to be warming up to the Nordic vamp in her house. He's adorable, and yes Deana, he needs some hair product, but other than that, I'm really enjoying Vulnerable Eric. And of course, a side of Alcide isn't too bad either. Here's hoping there are more shirtless scenes for the men in the near future!

Editor's note: The review of this week's True Blood is being interrupted to bring you breaking news on a stomach virus that has attacked the Bear. The review will be posted tomorrow, pending no additional vomiting.

I hate puke.

As in, really hate it. It's my least favorite thing out of everything the body manufactures. I can handle urine, poop, boogers, sweat - hell, I practically bathed in breast milk for a year. I'd even take blood (small amounts, please) over vomit. Because the only thing puke does to me is make me want to, well, puke.

::shudder::

Remember how I mentioned I was sick on the Fourth of July? Yeah, blowing chunks of spare ribs out of your nose will definitely turn you off to that food group in the future. Brian got sick on Wednesday, and then all was quiet in our little family of three. I really thought (stupidly) that Scotty had escaped the grips of this virus.

And then yesterday, I was reminded Motherhood is all about perspective.

I got home from the gym about 1:30. Brian and I promptly high-fived, and he headed out the door. I begrudgingly set about cleaning the bathrooms when I heard Scotty start screaming upstairs at 1:45. That was a super short nap, I thought, and tried to contain my irritation as I pulled off my rubber gloves. I can't even find the time to scrub a toilet...grr...

And when I walked in his room, the sour stench of vomit practically made me keel over. His blankets, his animals...everything, including himself, were coated in pink, chunky goo. He was wailing sad, sad tears. It was like his whole crib had been slimed.

Not sure what to do, I wadded all of the blankets into the hamper and set about picking chunks out of Scotty's hair. Finally giving in that a.) I was stinky from the gym and b.) my baby was covered in vomit, I threw him in the shower and jumped in, too. He hated the water. Absolutely hated it. But at least the pink was coming out of his hair and I was not a sweaty mess anymore.

I gave him some crackers and water and settled in for a little Bob the Builder action. (yes we can!) On the DVD was an additional video of a British cartoon called Fireman Sam, and by the fourth viewing (as the Bear sat silently in my lap), I realized that Fireman Sam was actually kind of cute. On the fifth viewing, I found myself looking at his hand for a wedding ring (never mind that I myself am married and he doesn't really exist.) On the sixth viewing, Scotty hurled crackers and water all over the couch, the carpet, and me.

I turned off Fireman Sam and totally panicked.

The Bear kept puking. All over. The bathroom, in the waste basket, in his hair, on the towel. All pink, all super, super smelly.

Brian arrived home from the gym and I called Scotty's ped. She was just leaving her office and referred us to the nearest ER. With his fifth shirt on for the day (the first four were piled in a disgusting pile in the laundry room), we headed out the door. I tried in vain to get Scotty to puke into a bucket as Brian drove, but he turned his head at the last minute and hit me and most of his car seat. And himself, of course.

So remember what I was saying about perspective? My grumpiness about cleaning a bathroom quickly evaporated as a I carried my vomit-covered child into the local hospital, but not before he managed to press his puke-stained shirt directly into my shoulder and face, ensuring the most amount of chunk-age could stick to me. Did I mention it was 105 degrees yesterday?

See? All about perspective. Those bathrooms don't look so bad now, huh?

Scotty put on a total show for the ER staff. After howling like a wolverine when his vitals were checked, he calmed down and turned into a little ham. He coo'd at the doctor, said hi to everyone walking by, and acted like he had never puked a day in his life. I bet the hospital staff thought we were neurotic parents freaked out by a little upchuck. I'm not saying I was hoping Scotty would puke while we were at the hospital, but it certainly would have verified our claims.

So we walked out, nary a prescription in hand, and watched as the kid heaved his little guts out in the car ride home. Gallons of puke, let me tell you. All over him, all over the car seat. And all while sniffling and crying, like, "Momb! Make it stop." We stripped him naked and draped towels all over the house as Brian and I tackled the mountain of pukey stuff in front of us. As Scotty rolled naked on the carpet, Brian stood over him and said quietly, "You know we really love you, right? Because this is really gross."

Right now, we are 19+ hours with no additional vomiting. He's keeping down some crackers, a banana, and 2 oz of applesauce. When I put him down for his nap, he felt warm, so maybe his body is fighting this virus off. All I know is I have more laundry to do and some serious scrubbing ahead of me. Fun times.